Only a myth?
by mimie-puddleduck
Summary: Retelling of the cross-dressing myth from Norse mythology, where Thor looses Mjollnir and him and Loki set out to get it back. Yeah, that's pretty much it.


**Chapter One**

Thor ran through the corridors of the castle, his steps thundering and his red cloak billowing behind him. His shoulder length blonde hair flew out, and his grey eyes were narrowed. There was thunder in his wake. The few servants that he passed mistook his expression for one of rage, squealed, skittered back and pressed themselves against the walls. One even spilled a jar of broth all over him and the floor. The mighty Thor ignored them.

He crossed a courtyard, which was decorated with a few cleverly cut hedges of deep green, and burst through a set of tall, intricately carved wooden doors, ignoring the guards dressed in black who timidly asked him to halt.

Loki's quarters were something of a clutter, with various magical instruments strewn across the floor, and soft sheets and pillows dragged half way off a luxurious bed. Bookcases lined the walls completely, from the floor to the ceiling, and the faint trickle of a fountain could be heard.

Loki himself was awake, obviously, and on the marble floor of his balcony, reading a very thick book. He lay on his stomach, absentmindedly waving his left hand, sending wreaths of magic twirling down his arm as he read intently. With his right forefinger he followed the words, muttering to himself and frowning slightly. He looked up, slightly startled, as Thor swung the doors shut behind him and stormed up to Loki, his expression somewhere between anger and worry.

"You've gone mad," Loki decided, sitting upright and slamming the book shut, a lazy grin flitting across his face. He leaned against a pillar and ran his fingers through his slick black hair. "Why, even your hair is practically bristling."

Thor sighed deeply. "Listen, Loki." Something in his manner made Loki realise the gravity of the situation. His bright blue eyes focused on Thor intensely.

"What is it?"

"The hammer-"

"Mjollnir?"

"It has been stolen. I've looked everywhere, even on Earth."

Loki sniggered. "What human would be able to steal Mjollnir?" Then in a more serious tone, "Who else knows of this?"

"Nobody."

Loki stood abruptly, his mind racing. He sped around his rooms, changing from his simple white tunic into his black and green battle gear. He talked aloud, showing the process of his mind. Thor tried to follow, but was too distressed to keep up with the eccentric and elaborate workings of Loki's mind, as he flitted rapidly in between ideas.

"We must go to Freya," Loki concluded, suddenly standing stationary. Thor blinked rapidly.

"Why, does she have my hammer?" His volume rose in anger.

Loki sighed and rolled his eyes at Thor's rash thinking. "Now, why on Asgard would Freya have your hammer?" He rapped Thor gently on the head with his knuckles, swept his long green travelling cloak up from the floor and swung it around his shoulders, fastening it quickly with one hand, his long, pale fingers flying rapidly. Thor still looked confused.

"The why would we seek Freya? She hates you," He reminded Loki.

"What, that little incident with the necklace? Simply water under the bridge." Loki waved his hand dismissively.

"Then-?"

"Her feather cloak."

"But-"

"Think, Thor. Who are the enemies of the gods?"

Thor's confusion rapidly shifted into anger. "Giants."

"More specifically, Thrym. The master of the giants."

Thor growled. "Freya," He muttered and, without warning, ran and jumped from the balcony to the ground below. Loki sighed at Thor's impulsiveness, and walked through the door, addressing the guards. "Tell Sigyn that I shall be away for a few days – on a matter of great importance. And no word mincing." The guard bowed respectfully and walked purposefully away.

Loki's boots clicked on the marble floor as he walked back into his room. Closing his eyes, he quickly found Thor, who ran through the countryside, a streak of red. When he opened them, he found himself running alongside him.

"Remind me why you need the cloak?" Thor grunted.

"Even magic has limits," Loki sighed, as they bounded across the lakes and started the trek through the forest, then up the mountain on the golden staircase. The staircase then took them across a great chasm, then they could see the golden hall of Freya, glistening in the distance. Loki slowed his pace to a brisk walk, and nervously manipulated the air in between his fingers. His whole being strained with energy, and a heavy atmosphere pressed down upon the two. At last he stopped and turned to face Thor, who had also, albeit grudgingly, halted.

"Actually, I think that I'll wait here."

"Water under the bridge, eh?" Thor laughed, and Loki scowled.

"Under the circumstances, I think that it would be wise to make sure that she doesn't see me. I may be the god of mischief and lies, but that doesn't mean that I should deceive myself. I know where I stand in regards to her." Thor raised his eyebrows, and Loki sighed. "Just don't mess this up, Thor. We need her cloak."

"Leave it to me." Thor nodded firmly and strode confidently up to the golden hall of Freya. Loki sighed, clenching and unclenching his fists absentmindedly. He sat down in the shade of a large oak tree as he watched the retreating red figure of Thor walk through the golden gates, that clanged shut behind him. Loki grinned – he would be there alright, only not in person. He closed his eyes and focused. He could quite clearly picture himself standing in the great hall, with the beautiful Freya idly lounging on her throne, fiddling with a small bouquet of bright flowers. She jerked upright as Thor was announced, and Loki was relieved to observe that Thor didn't run, but walked stately in, his head tilted down a notch as a sign of respect.

"My lady," He bowed, at the foot of her throne. Loki laughed to himself, enjoying the sight of a seemingly humble and polite Thor.

"Thor!" Freya gushed, leaping from her throne, her white dress and long blonde hair trailing on the floor behind her. Loki noticed the necklace she wore and grimaced.

_Why do I always get the blame?_

Thor beamed as her kissed her hand, and Freya giggled, pulling him into a hug and kissing his forehead daintily.

_Honestly, she is beyond belief._

"So, Thor, can I pretend that you travelled all this way by yourself just to see me?"

_All this way? The journey barely took us several hours._

Thor rose at Freya's indication. "I'm afraid not, lady. I come with an urgent request."

_He keeps a straight face. Impressive. After more than a second alone with this ridiculous woman, I would surely explode trying to contain my laughter._

"Oh dear, I hope you don't bring bad news, Thor!" Freya batted her large brown eyes at him.

"My hammer, it has been stolen, and I suspect it to be in the home of the giants. May I borrow your cloak to look for it?"

Loki laughed. _How elegantly put, Thor. How persuasive._

"Of course!" Freya cried, clasping Thor's hands in hers.

_Not like you need persuasion with her._

"My dear Thor, even if it were made of silver, or gold, I would lend it to you!"

The relief on Thor's face was clearly visible as several servants brought forth the large, light cloak. Loki had seen enough, so he brought his mind back to the slender, pale skinned man dozing under an oak tree. He opened his eyes and felt the grass beneath his fingers, and the sweet air in his lungs. As always, the prolonged use of strong magic had drained him of energy – for not only was he casting his mind, he was hiding his presence from Freya, who also knew a fair amount of magic. How he despised her and her silly, frivolous ways. And the fuss she had thrown, all for one little necklace!

No, he must forget that, for now. There were more important and urgent matters to contend with. For when Thor returned, he would surely realise what Loki had known all along, that the cloak will only carry one person.

_And if he wishes to get Mjollnir back, that person must be me._


End file.
